


Help

by DizzyRedhead



Series: 1000 Follower Giveaway Fics [5]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, M/M, Offscreen stalker, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 17:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18782440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyRedhead/pseuds/DizzyRedhead
Summary: When Sid's stalker sends another message, Zhenya knows he needs to get Sid somewhere safe. But what can he do to protect Sid from his own mind?Hint: three letters, rhymes with flex





	Help

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zhenya71](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhenya71/gifts).



> A much-belated prompt fill for the super-patient Zhenya71, one of the winners of my 1000 followers giveaway, who requested "Sid's a superstar (in hockey or something else I'm easy) and he needs a bodyguard to keep the crazy fans away. Geno is that bodyguard. Geno'd like to do a little more then just guard Sid's body."
> 
> It's been an embarrassingly long time, but I hope you like it!

Zhenya had been skeptical when he first heard about the assignment.

He knew about Sidney Crosby, of course. Everyone knew about Sidney Crosby. One of the youngest New York Times bestselling authors in history, he was also one of the most reclusive authors. Yes, his Ice Blade series was incredibly popular and had been optioned for a Showtime series, and yes, fans had been waiting anxiously for almost three years for the next book to come out.

But none of that automatically equaled the need for a bodyguard. Zhenya was privately at least half convinced that it was a publicity stunt on the part of Crosby’s publishers.

He thinks about that, now, with part of his mind, watching the blood drain out of Sid’s face as he stares at the flower arrangement on the hotel room table. White roses, just like the time before, and the time before that. Zhenya knows, they both do, what they’ll see if they open the attached card.

None of the notes have been overtly threatening. There’s nothing that the police can act on, they’ve explained regretfully. Nothing to say this isn’t just another fan, trying to get Sid’s attention.

Nothing but the locations where they’ve turned up. First at Sid’s favorite table in the coffeeshop where he likes to write sometimes. In his car. In the locker room at the gym he stopped using. In his house.

And now, in this hotel room, booked under Sid’s agent’s name. No one should have known Sid would be here. But somehow, some way, this stalker did.

“We leave.” He didn’t realize he was making the decision until the words were out of his mouth, but seeing the relief in Sid’s eyes, he knows it’s the right one. “Get bag, come on.”

“Where are we going?” The words could sound like a protest, but Sid is already doing as he asks. “I should call--”

Zhenya shakes his head. “Only agent’s office knew about room, yes?”

Sid is smart. It doesn’t take long for the penny to drop. “You think Jane--?”

“I not know.” Zhenya shrugs, collecting their bags. “Probably not. But too many people can’t keep secret. So we sleep somewhere else tonight, go to convention center tomorrow. No problem.”

Sid yanks his hood up over his unruly curls, gives the white roses one last despairing look before turning to Zhenya. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Fortunately it’s early enough, and the hotel is busy enough with the convention guests, that two more men holding bags blend right into the crowd.

Unfortunately, as Zhenya discovers when they’re safely in the car and he checks his phone, because of the convention, all the hotels for miles around are booked. Most of the motels, too.

He doesn’t want to take Sid to some trashy pay-by-the hour place. Sure, it’s anonymous, but Zhenya’s gotten used to the nicer things in life. Like unstained bedspreads and rooms that don’t come with hot and cold running roaches.

Wracking his brain, he finally strikes gold with a vacation rental site. The tiny studio apartment doesn’t look like much, but it’s better than their other options. Zhenya books it using a prepaid credit card, feeling a little silly for his paranoia. But then he remembers Sid’s face as he caught a glimpse of the white roses and somehow he doesn’t feel like laughing any more.

“Where are we going?” Sid finally looks at him as Zhenya puts his phone away and starts up the car.

“Found apartment, like airbnb. Clean, quiet. Good enough for one night.”

Sid nods, then looks panicked again. “Jane handled hiring you--if they found out where we are through her office--they’ll know your name--”

“Relax.” Zhenya reaches over to pat Sid’s knee. It’s probably inappropriate to feel smug, but it’s not often he thinks of things before Sid. “I not use name. Have prepaid credit card. Is safe, Sid. Promise.”

He tells himself he’s only going to leave his hand there until Sid’s leg relaxes. He tells himself it’s comfort, that Sid is shaken, that anything more would be taking advantage.

His hand stays on Sid’s knee until they pull into the apartment building’s parking garage.

* * *

The studio is exactly as advertised, clean and simple and, well. Very very small. And it felt even smaller, with two guys their size. Zhenya knows he’s being ridiculous, that the hotel room before was just as small, if not smaller.

But it still feels like there’s not enough air in the room, because the one thing Zhenya didn’t consider in their hasty relocation was the fact that the only place to sleep in this room is the one solitary bed.

“Maybe I take sofa--”

Sid looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “That’s not a sofa. That’s a glorified chair. You’d have to bend yourself up like a pretzel to sleep on it.”

Zhenya sighs, knowing what the reaction will be even before he says it. “Floor, then.”

“Geno.” It’s Sid’s turn to sigh, even though he’s using his eminently reasonable voice. “I really don’t have the energy to argue about this right now. Will you just sleep in the damn bed? I promise I can keep my hands to myself.”

Zhenya’s face heats, but he hopes it’s not clear how much he would definitely prefer the opposite. More than that, though, he feels guilty. This convention is a big deal for Sid; he’s going to be reading from his much-awaited new book, and he’s dealing with a stalker on top of it all. Zhenya is supposed to be making his life easier, not harder.

“Okay, Sid.” He sets their bags down next to the wall. “You want bathroom first?”

* * *

They’ve traveled together often enough to be familiar with each other’s routines, and Sid wasn’t lying about being tired. So before long they’re lying on opposite sides of the king-sized bed in the dark, after Zhenya double and triple-checked the locks on the door and all the windows.

Sid’s breathing is familiar, too, since he’s always insisted that Zhenya won’t do much good on the road if they’re in separate rooms. So Zhenya knows the sounds he makes, the little grumbling noises as he’s sliding into sleep and waking up, the occasional soft snores if he rolls onto his back, the way his breath goes shallow if he’s about to roll over and jot a story idea down in his bedside notebook.

All of this is to say that Zhenya knows very well Sid isn’t anywhere close to asleep.

“Want talk about it?” he finally ventures, keeping his voice to a whisper.

The ambient light filtering through the curtains is enough to show him Sid’s eyes flicking toward him. “What’s to talk about?” he says after a moment.

Zhenya shrugs. “Whatever is making you awake.”

“Keeping me awake,” Sid corrects. Because even now, even when they’re hiding from his crazy stalker, he remembers how Zhenya asked him to help with his English. “I dunno. Everything?”

“Should sleep,” Zhenya says. “Big day tomorrow. Need rest.”

Sid growls, low in his throat. “I know. That’s part of it. They’ve been waiting so long for this book. I want to give them something, but--it’s not the way the show went at all. What if they hate it? What if no one buys it? What if I never get another contract again and have to go back to teaching English at the community college? What if--”

He cuts off with a sharp intake of breath when Zhenya reaches across the space between them, lays a hand on his shoulder. His skin is warm even through the thin undershirt he wore to bed. Or maybe Zhenya is being fanciful again.

“Sid.” He’s not sure how to say all the things he’s thinking, all the things he knows. Maybe, maybe in Russian he could. But English always trips up his tongue, and this is important. He needs to get this right. “Is going to be okay. Need to stop thinking so hard.”

“I know.” Sid sighs. “I just don’t know how.”

That--seems right. In all the time Zhenya has been guarding Sid, he’s gotten so used to that quick, clever mind, always whirring behind Sid’s eyes. “Never stop?”

Sid squirms a little. “Not usually.”

“But something work.” Zhenya doesn’t think he’d let himself pursue this in any other situation. But right now, alone in the dark, it feels like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Like it’s just the two of them. “Make me guess?”

White teeth flash in the darkness as Sid bites his lip. “Sex helps. But I can’t exactly go out and pick up some dude right now. Even if you’d let me.”

Zhenya knows, he knows, that Sid just means it isn’t safe. That it would be his job as a bodyguard to stop Sid from hooking up with a random stranger who might be his stalker, might do him harm

But he goes hot all over at the other meaning that could be taken. That Sid could belong to him, that he could choose to share Sid, like a benevolent monarch bestowing gifts, or keep him treasured, selfishly, all to himself.

Maybe that’s why he says, “So I help?”

He regrets the words before the last one is even out of his mouth, but there’s no taking it back now. Maybe Sid will just do him the favor of pretending it never happened?

For a long, long moment, he thinks that’s what’s going to happen. That they’ll go to sleep and wake up in the morning and go about their business and they’ll both pretend he never said those words, made that offer.

There’s just enough time for the regret to coil, dark and bitter like stout beer, in the pit of his stomach--

“That’s not a part of your job description.”

Zhenya’s whole body flashes hot. Sid--Sid isn’t saying no. He isn’t shoving Zhenya away in disgust.

There’s a chance.

“Not for job.” Zhenya rolls onto his side, seeking Sid’s eyes. Choosing his words carefully, desperate to be understood. “For me, for you. Us.”

“That--that’s something you’d want?”

Zhenya can’t hold back the laugh. “Something I want since first see you. Especially in suit. Look good in suit. Want peel you out.”

The shiver that runs through Sid’s body shakes the bed, just a little. “I don’t want to take advantage--”

It’s Zhenya’s turn to grin, because he may not be playing hockey anymore, but he knows an opening when he sees one. “Maybe I’m one take advantage?”

It’s silly, but It startles a little honking laugh out of Sid. And he doesn’t pull away when Zhenya shifts closer; he moves, too, closing the gap until there are only inches left between them.

Zhenya rests a hand gently on the side of his face. “Okay?”

Sid’s eyes sparkle. “I’m still thinking. That all you’ve got?”

Stung by the challenge, Zhenya closes the distance between them. He’s been imagining this kiss for long enough that he half-expects to be disappointed. But Sid’s mouth is just as soft and plush under his, opening easily to let him slip inside for a taste.

It’s dizzying, so good he forgets the aim for a second. But Sid wants to stop thinking, wants to be so overwhelmed with sex that his brain shuts off. Zhenya might not be an award-winning author like Sid, might just be a slab of intimidating muscle, but this he knows how to do.

Knows how to slide a hand down Sid’s back, feeling the warmth and the surprising muscle under the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Knows how to linger, letting his fingers slip under the fabric to find warm, smooth skin. Knows how to keep his touch light, teasing, until Sid presses back against it, asking wordlessly for more.

When he slides his hands further down, finally letting himself cup that incredible ass--he’s had dreams, waking and sleeping, about that ass, and he’s not even ashamed to admit it--Sid makes a soft urgent noise against his mouth, rolling his hips forward until Zhenya can feel his cock, hard and hot against Zhenya’s hip.

“Geno.” He gasps out the word when their mouths separate, his hands digging into Zhenya’s arm. “Geno, please, I need--”

Zhenya allows himself a squeeze, smiling to himself when Sid throws his head back on a low moan. “Need what? I give. Just tell.”

“Fuck me,” Sid gasps.

The words are like a burst of electricity down Zhenya’s spine, shocking and bright. He’d thought--he doesn’t know what he thought. He hadn’t been thinking, obviously, but now he’s here, about to get everything he’s wanted for the past year. “Sure, Sid?”

Sid meets his eyes, radiating aching sincerity and a hunger, a need, that Zhenya can’t help but respond to. “I’m sure. I want--I need it. Please.”

Zhenya can’t think of anything he’d deny Sid in this moment. Especially not something Zhenya wants, too. Except-- “I not--have stuff? Supplies?”

“In my shaving kit.” Sid looks a little abashed, but Zhenya is too relieved to think about it.

“Stay.” He lets go of Sid reluctantly, pushing back until he can swing his legs over the edge of the bed. “Right back.”

True to his word, Sid has condoms and lube tucked neatly into an inner pocket of his shaving kit. Zhenya shoves back the thought of who Sid was planning to use these with. Right now, he’s using them with Zhenya. That’s what matters.

When he comes out of the bathroom, Sid is still lying there facing the doorway. He looks pleasantly rumpled, his hair slightly messy, his lips even plumper and redder than usual. Because of Zhenya.

He tries to fight down the surge of possessiveness that rises in his chest. Now isn’t about him and his silly crush. Now is about Sid, what Sid needs. And to give Sid what he needs, they both need to be wearing a lot fewer clothes.

Tossing the lube and condoms onto the mattress, Zhenya takes the moment to strip out of his undershirt and boxers. He’s willing to admit he enjoys the way Sid’s eyes are hot and dark on him as he straightens, can’t help preening a little as he climbs back into the bed.

“Like what you see?”

“Depends,” Sid shoots back. “Is that for me?”

Zhenya laughs, reaching for the hem of Sid’s t-shirt. “All for you.”

Sid cooperates willingly, letting Zhenya strip off his shirt and wriggling out of his boxers before dragging him in for another hungry kiss.

It shouldn’t be surprising that Sid kisses like he does everything else, with single-minded intensity. Zhenya finds himself falling into it, into the taste of Sid’s mouth, the feel of his skin. It takes a forcible effort of will to pull back and start kissing his way down Sid’s chest and over his abs.

Reaching for the lube, he manages to get it open and slick up a finger as he licks a wide, wet stripe up Sid’s cock. Sid groans, fists clenching in the sheets, hips lifting off the bed as Zhenya closes his mouth over the head, reaching down to tease a fingertip over Sid’s hole.

Time gets away from him a little, lost in the rhythm of his mouth on Sid’s cock, his fingers working him open. He could have rushed it a little more, honestly. Two fingers would almost certainly have been enough. But Sid wanted not to think, and Zhenya--Zhenya has wanted this too long to rush.

But finally, the taste of precome on his tongue is nearly constant. Sid’s moans have long since turned from begging and curses and his name to unintelligible sounds and Zhenya has three fingers working smoothly in and out of Sid’s ass. As tempting as it is to make Sid come just like this, that’s not what he asked for. What he needs.

So he sits up, stretching his neck to relieve the slight strain, and reaches for the condom packet. It shouldn’t be a surprise, but it still startles him a little, how hoarse he is when he asks “How you want?”

Sid blinks up at him, his eyes wide and desperate. It clearly takes him a few seconds to fully grasp the meaning of the question. “Like this?”

Zhenya nods, rolling the latex over his incredibly sensitive cock. Even that little touch feels too good, but he’ll be damned if he comes before he even gets inside Sid. This isn’t about him, he reminds himself. The fact that he finally gets to fuck Sid is completely incidental to what they’re doing here.

“Like this,” he confirms. It only takes the slightest shift to position himself between Sid’s legs. Reaching for one of the innumerable pillows, he tucks it under Sid’s hips, strokes his hands up those thick, muscular thighs. Because he can. Because for this moment, he gets to.

As tempting as it is to tease further, Sid looks almost as on edge as Zhenya feels, so he takes himself in hand and lines his cock up, pushing inside Sid’s body. They both suck in a breath when the head slips inside, Sid’s hips hitching up to pull him ever so slightly deeper.

“Okay?” If Zhenya had thought his voice was hoarse before, it’s almost unrecognizable right now. It’s been so long since he’s done this, and the fact that it’s Sid under him? Sid’s eyes looking up into his, Sid’s body taking him in--

“More,” Sid gasps. “Geno, please--”

“Zhenya.” It seems ridiculous as soon as it’s out. He answers to many names, why should he care which one Sid calls him?

But Sid doesn’t seem to mind, just rolls his hips up again, drawing Zhenya further inside him. “Please, Zhenya, more.”

Holding onto control by his fingertips, Zhenya thrusts deeper, moving with agonizing slowness until he can’t go any deeper, his cock completely buried in the heat of Sid’s body.

When he forces his eyes open--when did they close?--Sid looks completely wrecked under him, his face and chest flushed, teeth digging into his kiss-swollen lower lip. “Zhenya,” he breathes.

Zhenya shudders all over. “Sid--”

Sid lifts one muscular leg and wraps it around Zhenya’s waist, heel digging into his lower back. “Fuck me, Zhenya. Please.”

It’s been a long time since Zhenya had fooled himself that he could deny Sid anything. His body starts moving without his conscious command, slowly at first, then faster in response to Sid’s breathless demands and the force of his own instincts.

“Fuck.” Sid groans out the word, throwing his head back on the pillow when Zhenya finds his prostate. “Fuck, Zhenya, like that--”

After a few experimental thrusts, Zhenya finds the spot again, bending Sid nearly in half and fucking in hard and fast. His breath is coming hard, a rhythm he remembers from his long-ago hockey days, and he’s not sure how long he can keep this up, but he’ll be damned if he comes before Sid does.

He manages to get a hand between them, wrapping it around Sid’s hard, leaking cock. Sid cries out at the touch, his body shaking.

“Gonna come.” Zhenya doesn’t mean to growl the words, but his throat is dry as dust, watching Sid all gorgeous and aroused under him. “Come for me, Sid--”

And Sid does, going vice-tight around Geno’s cock as he shoots, wet and sticky, over Geno’s hand, across his stomach, his chest. “Fuck, fuck, Zhenya--”

Maybe it’s the physical sensations, maybe the fact that he’s been on edge for so long, maybe the sound of his name on Sid’s lips as he comes. Whatever it is, Zhenya can’t hold on any longer, his orgasm hitting him like an unexpected check into the boards.

He has no idea how long he’s frozen above Sid, shuddering through his orgasm. All he knows is that when he opens his eyes, Sid’s are still closed, his face smooth and peaceful. He’s not asleep, but he’s not far off, either.

Zhenya relaxes his grip on Sid’s legs, letting them slide down to rest on the bed. Grabbing the base of the condom, he pulls out as gently as he can. Sid still makes a little noise, blinking his eyes open.

“Okay?” Zhenya asks as softly as he can.

“Yeah.” Sid makes a little face, squirming slightly against the bed. “That’s just always weird.”

There’s nothing to really say to that. Zhenya disposes of the condom. “I get cloth. Right back.”

Sid waves lazily at him, so Zhenya forces himself up off the bed. In the bathroom, he wets a cloth, looking at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t look any different from usual, nothing written on his face to declare “I fucked my client I’ve been crushing on for months!”

Hopefully no one at the agency figures it out.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he returns to the bed. Sid is just where he left him, sprawled across the sheets in a way that suggests complete relaxation. Probably Zhenya should hand him the cloth. Whatever they were doing here, that doesn’t give him any rights to Sid.

But instead he holds up the cloth, quirking an eyebrown until Sid nods, then carefully wiping tacky, drying semen off his chest and stomach. He hesitates for a second, then moves lower, gently cleaning Sid’s softening cock and wiping the remaining lube from his hole.

By the time he returns from disposing of the cloth, Sid has the covers pulled back up over him and appears, if not asleep, then well on his way. Zhenya slides under the blankets as carefully as he can.

“Thanks,” Sid says into the darkness.

Zhenya can’t hold back the snort. “Yeah, I’m not get anything out of. Was okay?”

“It was exactly what I needed.”

He basks for a minute in the sincerity in Sid’s voice. “Good. Get sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

All is silent and still for a moment, then the bed shifts as Sid rolls closer, pressing against Zhenya’s side. “Is this--can I--”

“ _Da,_ ” Zhenya says reflexively. “Course, Sid.”

Sid hesitates a moment, then drapes an arm across Zhenya’s stomach, relaxing against him with a sigh.

Zhenya worms an arm out from under him, wraps it tentatively around Sid’s shoulders, and decides to take his own advice.

Sleep comes surprisingly easily.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know that's an ambiguous ending, feel free to yell about it in the comments, but I wanted to post it before it had been literally two years since I got the prompt. It's possible I may someday do a sequel if so moved, but don't hold your breath, because my track record is not great, thanks to day job stress and trying to make it as an author of original fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you like reading about dumb hockey boys having sex and sometimes feelings, you might enjoy [following me on Tumblr.](http://dizzy-redhead.tumblr.com)


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